


Home

by prongsdeer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Spooning, Steve Rogers is a Gentle Boy, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 23:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18838837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prongsdeer/pseuds/prongsdeer
Summary: Steve doesn’t know where home is anymore and neither do you, until you find solace in each other’s arms.





	Home

Time seemed to stop after you stepped into the cheap motel room and Steve closed the door behind him. The place looked ridiculous with its canary yellow walls, green carpet and red curtains, but it was the cleanest one you had found in the past couple weeks. There were periods when you would stay in the same place for months: you cherished these times, because even though it never felt like home, sometimes it gave the fake sense of peace you longed for.

For the most part, you had to move on a weekly, sometimes on a daily basis. It was exhausting; not really physically but emotionally, to always sleep on a different bed. Settling down and getting some rest was only a dream. It would have been easier if you could have seen the light at the end of the tunnel, but the situation seemed never-ending and hopeless.

It was one of those days. You opened the window a few inches to let the cool, late summer night air into the room, but pulled the dark curtains closed to avoid curious eyes. When you turned around, Steve stood at the foot of the only bed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Is this okay for you?”

Despite the circumstances, it was hard to stifle a smile. He was so close to offering he would rather sleep on the floor so you could take the bed—it was plastered all over his face.

“Believe it or not, sleeping in the same bed with you is the least of my concerns right now,” you said, before disappeared in the bathroom.

Suddenly, a huge wave of guilt washed over Steve. He sunk down on the creaky armchair and heaved a sigh. He tried to push the feeling away as he always did, but it broke out again and again. While he had many regrets, one of his greatest sorrows was that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved; that he had to watch you having to hide every day because of him.

It was still so crazy to think of how everything collapsed in the blink of an eye. After months, maybe even years, Steve gave into his feelings and asked you out on a date. He slowly let himself love again. Back then, he thought the timing was right. Looking back, he wished he hadn’t waited for so long.

Three dates were all you two got before the Accords. Steve loved and hated to think of those times, because even though he held beautiful memories of them, they reminded him of what he had lost, what he could have gotten, and how different his life would be now.

A year had passed since you were on the run, and you hadn’t talked about the short time you spent together. As if those unforgettable hours and days never even happened. It was mostly Steve who always avoided the subject, and while sometimes you were disappointed, most of the time you couldn’t blame him at all. There were ’just’ too many scars, too many painful memories, too many regrets and what ifs.

It was late at night and you couldn’t sleep. The exhaustion made you feel cold, shivering, despite of the pleasant warm temperature of the room. Pulling the comforter up to your chin, you watched Steve’s back, knowing well he was awake, too.

Once in a blue moon you shared a room with Steve, but never a bed. Most times it was you and  Nat, but when you went on separate missions, you didn’t have any other choice. It didn’t bother you, of course; sometimes it was just simply too awkward after everything that had happened between the two of you. The fact that he chose not to talk about it, only made it worse.

Steve heard you shifting on the sheets and he turned around, watching you in the dim light of the room. He could only see your eyes and nose peeking out from the covers.

“Are you cold?”

Only a nod came in answer as you buried your head deeper into the pillow.

“Do you want my blanket?”

A sad smile formed on your lips that he couldn’t see, and you shook your head. Steve spent nearly seventy years in ice and ever since, he didn’t always cope well with the cold. There weren’t many people who knew this; he tried not to show it.

He silently stared at you for a while, clenching his jaw at the sight of you still shivering under the covers, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He shifted closer and pulled on his comforter to drape it over you, but you grabbed his wrist.

“Steve, don’t,” you said quietly. “I’m okay.”

You lowered your hand, but it stayed wrapped around his wrist, brushing your thumb across his skin until he carefully intertwined his fingers with yours.  

Steve heaved a sigh. “But you are not really, are you?”

“What do you mean?” You asked. His skin was so warm you felt a tremendous urge to snuggle up to him.

With his eyes on your tangled hands, Steve shook his head. “It shouldn’t be like this. This all… it shouldn’t have happened. You deserve better than… this,” he said, pulled his hand away and rolled on his back.

“Stop blaming yourself! We’ve all lost a lot but it wasn’t your fault alone. We’ve fucked this up together.”

“But don’t you have regrets? Do you never wish you didn’t choose me?”

“Steve…” you sighed. “You’re important to me. But so was Tony. Still is. I didn’t choose between you and him, I chose what I believed in. You know that.”

“I know. I just wish there was another way.”

“Yeah, me too. But we’re still here for each other.”

Steve smiled softly and turned to his side again to face you, but stayed silent. He wished he was more like you, that he could adapt to this new life just as easily as you seemed to have. Because whether he liked it or not, this was his life now. From a hero to a fugitive.

Once again, you took his hand, but this time you pressed it against your cheek, earning a small chuckle that was so rare to hear from him lately. “You’re really warm.”

Steve gently pulled his hand back and you were worried it was maybe your cold skin that bothered him, but a moment later he lifted his comforter and held it open to invite you into his arms. It took you by surprise, but you gladly accepted it and moved closer, almost too eagerly, until your body was pressed against him.

As always, he acted first and thought second, and now he felt insecure about his own decision. Steve had not held anyone like this in a very long time. He was uncertain, but quickly realized the soft, content hum that involuntarily left your lips was worth it. Holding you in his arms couldn’t be compared to anything he had ever felt before. He rubbed your back to warm you up, hesitantly at first, but feeling you melting against him gave him more than enough courage. He kept your cold feet between his, even though it felt like thousands of needles were stinging his skin. He felt calmness wash over him, even if his heart felt heavy. In different circumstances, this all would be so much more easier.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Steve said immediately.

Pulling back just enough so you could look up at him, you arched an eyebrow. He let out a weak chuckle, because you both knew well Steve’s brain almost never quiet down. There were so many things you wanted to tell him in that moment, while your eyes bored into his beautiful cerulean gaze. The years you lost, the feelings you hid, everything that was left unsaid. And yet, when you opened your mouth, all you could tell him was,

“You have ridiculously long eyelashes.”

Steve frowned, but a smile played on his lips. “I don’t know what to say to this.”

“They’re like curtains. Is this an effect of the serum?”

“Are we really talking about my eyelashes?” Steve sensed you had stopped shivering, but continued to keep his hand on the middle of your back. He made a motion to move closer or pull you closer, you couldn’t decide which one before he stopped and just shifted awkwardly on the sheets.

“Do you want to talk about something else?”

Steve swallowed hard. He noticed the light change in your tone and he knew what you meant, but it still scared him. “We can talk about my eyelashes.”

With a breathy chuckle, you fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt. He saw the disappointment that flashed through your eyes once again, as he had seen so many times before.

“I know what you want, Y/N,” he said then with a sad frown creasing his forehead. “And I wish I could give it to you. But the circumstances…”

“Who cares about the circumstances?” You cut him off, not angrily but with enough edge in your tone. “Our life has always been dangerous and unpredictable.”

“That’s exactly it. Every time… every single time I felt like I could move on, when I thought I could get a life as you all always told me to get… something happened that showed me I couldn’t. That I never will. It was proven once again a year ago. We barely started dating and look what happened.”

“So what? Do you think it’s some kind of a punishment?”

“No. I don’t. I just… I never wanted you to go through all of this because of me.”

“Are you scared, that if we got too close again something will happen?”

He gave a barely visibly nod.

“I chose this, Steve. I knew what I signed up for.” Your hand slipped from his arm to his back. “Stop putting everyone else’s happiness above yours. You deserve it, too.”

He felt nimble fingers brushing across his nape and it sent a shiver down his spine.

“I’ve missed you,” you said quietly. “I want to be with you. But if you don’t think it’s worth it even if it’s just temporary…”

“God, of course it’s worth it,” he sighed. His heart ached to think of all the pain he had caused. “I love every second I can spend with you. I’m just afraid it’ll cost too much.”

“You can’t spend your entire life worrying about the what ifs.”

Once again, you slid your body flush against his, but hearing his breath hitching, you quickly looked up at him. Steve was always so careful with touches; you didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. “Is this too much for you?”

“No,” he said, a little too quickly that made you smile and him blushing. “It’s nice. It feels nice.”

Goosebumps broke out across his skin when you pushed the loose strands of hair back from his forehead, brushed your fingertips through his beard and rested your palm on his cheek. He hadn’t understood how touch starved he was, not until now. He closed his eyes and gave into the feeling that made him warm and shivery at the same time.

“It feels nice,” he repeated once more before he slowly leaned closer to press his lips against yours. Tender and languid brushes, light, peppering kisses. It made you smile. He shuddered as the tip of your tongue touched his full bottom lip and he deepened the kiss, but his pace didn’t change. He kept it so agonizingly slow you weren’t sure if it would last forever or would end any minute.

When he pulled back and touched his forehead against yours, your heart thundered in your chest.

“Yeah… it’s definitely worth it,” he said.

***

In the next following weeks, you fell asleep with Steve almost every day. He spooned you when you fell into bed at the crack of dawn. Snuggled up to you and buried his face into your neck late at night. Rested his head on your lap for just a minute, but it felt too good to stay awake. Pulled you on him like you were his blanket and let you fell asleep on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

It felt like now that he could finally hold you in his arms again, he couldn’t let you go, and he spent every second as close to you as he could when you were alone. Both,   Natasha and Sam immediately noticed the two of you – even though Steve didn’t show much physical affection around them – but neither of them commented on it besides side glances and small smirks.

Waking up next to Steve felt like heaven. His large arms were heavy and felt amazing wrapped around you, always protectively, as if he was afraid something or someone could rip you out of his grasp. His body was hard pressed up tightly against yours, always warm and despite of the circumstances, surprisingly relaxed.

Waking up next to Steve was also rare: it was the first time you found him fast asleep in the morning. Even before you had to be on the run, he was always up before the sun. It didn’t change much since then.

You hoped you could enjoy the feeling of being in his arms a little longer, but too soon, he woke up with a jolt.

“What time is it?” Steve’s voice was quiet and deep, with only a small hint of distress.

“I don’t know,” you said, eyes still closed. “We’re okay. Go back to sleep.”

Slowly, he let himself go; you felt him relaxing again. His grip strengthened a little and he pulled you into him, burying his face into your hair. You knew he won’t go back to sleep, he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Still, you worried about him.

“Are you okay, Steve? Did you have a nightmare?” You turned your head back so you could look at him, rubbing your knuckles over his cheek.

He blinked sleepily and smiled, honest and soft, before gave a nod and kissed your hand. “I’m okay.”

Steve never has been overly affectionate, but he was quite touchy this morning. It felt like he was constantly trying to pull you closer, yearning to feel your body against his. He held your hand and rubbed your stomach and loved the tiny, content hums that left your lips. He pressed the smallest, softest kiss to the back of your neck, like he wasn’t really sure he should be doing that.

He felt you shivering, heard your pulse picking up and he repeated, leaving hot kisses all over the sensitive skin of your neck. He didn’t stop until a quiet moan slipped from your lips. The sound made his heart beat faster and all he wanted was to draw some more out of you, but he hesitated.

“Keep doing that, please,” you murmured, and it was all he needed to hear to continue. The touches touch of his lips remained feather-light, exploring and trying to find your most sensitive spots. His hand wandered up along the length of your arm, gently pulling on the shirt just enough to expose your shoulder. The cool air touched your skin you shivered, but his warm kisses and hot breath quickly warmed you up.

He moved up to your neck again, his beard tickling but his soft lips soothing the burn away. He left kisses everywhere from you shoulder to behind your ear, somehow always finding your weakest spots without much effort. Another moan escaped when his tongue touched your skin. The more sounds you made the more heated his kisses became, leaning over to press them over your throat, up your chin, down your jawline and back to your shoulder.

Steve enjoyed to see and hear how good he made you feel—maybe a little a too much. He felt embarrassed about his growing bulge and he wasn’t sure what he should do; he didn’t want to stop kissing you. He tried to arch his body away, but you pressed back against him, letting him know you wanted to feel him.

Soon, his hand started to wander too, down your arms and over your stomach, squeezing and stroking ever so gently. Hot waves of longing swept through you as his fingers toyed with the hem of your t-shirt, hesitantly moving his hand up but stopping on your belly.

“Is this okay?” He rumbled into your ear; his deep and quiet voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yes,” you said, out of breath, yearning to feel him closer to you. He rubbed the tender skin with his calloused fingers, up and down and in soft circles, but he always halted under your breasts.

“You can touch me, Steve,” you purred, grasped his hand and guided it up.

A shaky breath left his lips when your breasts filled his hand, soft and heavy. He squeezed them gently, moving from the right to the left, adding a little more pressure as if he was testing the waters, trying to figure out how he could make you feel even better. He brushed his thumb over a nipple, rolling it between his fingers and pinching lightly. Gasps of delight fell from your lips and you clenched your thighs together as desire pooled between them. His hand slid down, fingertips brushing over your skin, only to grab the hem of your sleeping shirt and tug it up over your head. He hovered over you while you still lay on your side, eyes drinking you in for a long moment before he latched onto your breasts, kissing, licking and sucking whilst you brushed your fingers through his grown hair.

You couldn’t keep yourself back anymore and rolled your hips into him, creating a delicious friction and trying to find some ease. He groaned, held you tighter and bucked his hips. Your body was tingling all over, burning with heat and wanting more of Steve.

His hand moved lower, down to your knees then back up your legs. He repeated a few times, enjoying the feeling of your heated skin under his palm, before he hooked his thumb into the waistband of your sleeping shorts.

“Can I?” He asked, almost sheepishly, waiting for you consent before he pushed them down to your knees, along with your underwear.

Shuffling out of them, you kicked them off your ankles while Steve sat up to take his shirt off. The skin-to-skin contact nearly undid him when he lay back and spooned you again. The heat of your body and the scent of your arousal surrounded him and clouded his brain. He brought his hand to your knee, gently stroking your skin all the way up to the top of your thigh. You held your breath back while he grabbed your leg, carefully pulling it back to rest above his before he slid his palm up on the inside of your thigh. Kissing the back of your neck, Steve slowly traced his fingers through your folds. He shuddered in pleasure when he found you so hot and soaking wet.

You grabbed a handful of the sheets. Every stroke sent tingles through your entire body. The sudden jolts of your hips and your little whimpers pushed all the other thoughts aside, only leaving place for red-hot desire. You were already so worked up it wouldn’t have taken much effort to make you come, but Steve was dragging it out on purpose. He didn’t touch your clit directly, just grazed against it very lightly from time to time. His fingertips circled your entrance, but he didn’t push in.

Reaching down, you wrapped your fingers around his wrists; not to stop him but to give a nudge to his hand.

“Please.” The little shaky word that left your lips made Steve quiver. Two fingers slid in easily, making your body jerk in response.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried out.

“Shhh.” Steve pressed his lips to your ear and tried to shush you down, because as much as he would have loved to hear you screaming his name, the walls of the motel room were dangerously thin.

He thrust in and out of you, dragging his fingers along your walls while the heel of his palm brushed against your clit. Your grip around his wrist tightened, your wetness was dripping down your thighs. The sounds you made became less controlled. Steve felt you were on the edge, but you forced yourself to pull on his wrist.

Taking the hint, he stopped immediately and drew his hand back. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” you said, reaching back to tug on his pants. “I just want you inside me.”

Your words caused a wave of dizziness wash over him. He couldn’t think straight for a long moment, just lay there while you struggled to get him out of his clothes. Until your soft hand touched his bare thigh; then he came back to his senses.

“Wait,” he said, quietly but with disappointment oozing from his voice. His tone made you worried; you turned on your back so you could look at him.

The way he looked at you, knocked the air out of your lungs. A thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead, his cheeks flushed pink. His soft blue eyes darkened with desire, his lips parted, reddened and plump from kissing you, his blonde hair tousled from your fingers. In that moment, you wanted nothing but pull him over you and feel every inch of him.

He seemed to be having the very same thoughts, the way he was watching you. The tiniest whimper fell from his lips and he let his head fall in the crook of your neck.

“Steve, what’s wrong?”

He stayed still for a second before he lifted his head, looking at you with glistening eyes while you played with his hair. “Nothing. I just, well, you know, I didn’t exactly come prepared… for this.”

Smiling, you kissed him softly, before quickly jumping out of the bed and rummaging through your bag. You were back before Steve had the time to process what you were doing. He raised his eyebrows as you handed him the box, a tiny smile tugging the up the corner of his lip.

“What? At least one of us was prepared.”

While he opened the box, you tugged his pants down and threw them away. He struggled with the little foil packet with his trembling hands while you wrapped your hand around his aching cock, stroking him slowly. He cursed under his breath while you rolled the condom on.

Steve tilted your chin up and kissed you deeply, while you slowly lay back down on the mattress and pulled him with you. His pulse picked up again as you turned on your side, shaking with anticipation and throbbing with need as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled your body flush against his. You felt his length pressing against you, sliding up and down between your slippery folds until your breaths came out in little gasping pants. His tip touched your entrance, readying himself.

“Go slow,” you asked, considering his size, though you had no doubt he would be gentle.

He pressed a tender kiss on your bare shoulder, whispering, “Of course.”

Steve pushed into you slowly, even though your wetness made it a lot easier. He was very careful, listening for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but he didn’t hear any. He let out quiet grunts and small gasps, his breath tickling the back of your neck. A sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper left your lips, making him stop.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you said, gripping the bedding. His girth made you feel full, not painfully, but maybe a little uncomfortably. It didn’t stop you from wanting to feel all of him. “Just keep it slow.”

Steve continued easing into you, filling you up inch by delicious inch. He let out a relieved sigh when he was all the way in. Giving you time to adjust, he stayed still and sneaked his arm around your stomach, keeping you close while he was kissing your neck. He didn’t move for a long minute, just enjoyed how good it felt to be inside you.

Letting go of the bedsheet, you grasped his arm and wriggled your hips a little. The motion made the both of you groan. He pulled almost all the way out, before pushed back in. He kept a slow, languid pace.

Steve shuddered with every thrust. The way you felt around him was almost too overwhelming, so hot and tight and wet. Your little moans only added to his joy, making him dizzy every time he caught them.

Every drag of his cock against your walls made you feel like every fiber of you was on fire. You burned with desire, every inch of your body shuddering with hot and cold waves. It was almost too much and yet not nearly enough; you couldn’t decide if you wanted him deeper or to pull away.

“Steve,” you whimpered his name, grasped his forearm tighter and dug your nails into his flesh. “Faster.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured into your neck with a hint of concern in his voice. You knew what he meant. As calm and collected as he usually looked, it wasn’t that rare that he lost control. The serum granted him not only super strength but super speed as well, and you both knew he could easily hurt you if he lost control over his body.

It was clear to you, but your mind was too foggy to think straight. Steve would never do anything to you if there was even a small chance of causing you pain, but he wanted to please you.

“You won’t,” you practically sobbed out while he kept thrusting in and out of you. “Please, just a little—oh, please Steve.”

Your little pants and incoherent words tightened his lower abdomen. His arm left your stomach and his hand grasped your hip, firmly, but not enough to cause pain. He picked up his pace, but he was still slow. The position you were in allowed his hard length to hit the most sensitive spots inside you, making your eyes roll back. Steve leaned above you and cupped your cheek, tilting your head up so he could kiss you. It was deep and messy, mingled with both of your sounds of pleasure. He was right on the edge and it took every ounce of self control to keep himself back.

His hand trailed, feeling you up, grabbing and squeezing you everywhere he could reach. His lips never left your skin, leaving hot, wet kisses all over your neck.

“Faster, please, Steve…” Your voice came out as a choked whisper, begging him to give you what you needed. He hesitated, but started to increase his speed, until he turned you into a moaning mess.

He groaned into your ear, telling you he was close and he wanted you to come with him. You whined. There was an orgasm building deep inside your core, but it didn’t quite wanted to break. Grasping his hand, you pushed it down to between your legs and pressed his fingers against your clit. It immediately made you cry out and arch back into him, grinding against his hand while he kept rubbing your sensitive little nub.

It was too much for Steve: the way you felt around him, your hot body pressed up against him, your ragged breaths and loud moans that he didn’t even try to quiet down at this point. He grunted into your ear, relinquished the last ounce of control he had left while he came, twitching and pulsating, thrusting as deep into you as he could. The sounds he made seemed to be that last bit of push you needed; they sent you over the edge, moaning, whimpering and clenching around him. He lazily kept pushing into you while you were grinding against his fingers, riding out the waves of your orgasm.

Steve’s entire body was shaking like a leaf. He pulled his hand away when you stopped moving, gently sliding his palm up and down your side. He kissed the back of your neck, moving your hair out of the way and brushing his knuckles over the soft skin. He pulled out of you carefully, but stayed motionless behind you.

Slowly, you turned around to face him. Steve opened his baby blue eyes, a sleepy smile curving his lips. You hooked a leg over his small waist and brushed your fingertips through his beard.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?”

Steve let out a low chuckle and kissed the heel of your palm. For long minutes, neither of you said anything. There wasn’t anything you could have said that was worth more than this: lying lazily in his arms while you showered each other with tender touches and loving glances. No words were necessary.

It was the quietest night you had in weeks; maybe months. For hours, you could forget about all of your worries. It was just you and him. Your eyelids became heavier, until you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. Half asleep, you felt him gently clean you up with a warm washcloth. The mattress dipped under his weight and you smiled when he pulled you closer to him, draping the blanket over your tired bodies. A warm, comfortable feeling filled Steve, realizing the place he had been searching for was at 


End file.
